The Dragon Knights of Winterhold
by BlueWolf1923
Summary: The Dragonborn, K'ira, roams Skyrim with fellow mages J'zargo and Brelyna Maryon, as well as part-time character Cicero of the Dark Brotherhood. Dovahkiin/Brelyna. Takes place after main story, College story, and Asassin story. First entry in a series I plan to expand a lot. Better summary inside.
1. Centurions, part 1

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 1: Centurions, Part One

This is an idea I've had rolling around my head for months, but I've been afraid to write it because Skyrim doesn't really have a canon Dovahkiin, so I'm going to use one of mine.

Here are a list of the main characters, with some detail.

K'ira (Dragonborn, Khajit/Dunmer)

Born a Khajit, with green eyes, silver fur with long silver hair and beard. Becomes a Dark Elf in this chapter, he has long black hair and deep grey skin, of course with red eyes. Wields a Daedric Sword enchanted with fire and lightning, Burntblood. He wears Dragonplate armour, boots, and gauntlets, with a white mage's hood. He is a werewolf, blooded by the Companions. He is the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, but hasn't returned to the Dawnstar Sanctuary in almost a year. Also the current Arch-Mage of Winterhold. He successfully killed Alduin with assistance from J'zargo, his closest ally and best friend. In possession of the Daedric artifacts Ring of Hircine and Mehrunes' Razor.

J'zargo (Destruction specialist, Khajit)

Tiger-striped fur, green eyes. He wears Ebony armour, gauntlets, boots. Wields a variety of weapons, including a powerful lightning staff he built, twin Daedric daggers, an Ebony bow, and his Daedric artifact, the Dawnbreaker. K'ira's best friend and self-proclaimed brother.

Brelyna Maryon (Conjuration specialist, Dark Elf)

Dark grey skin, glowing red eyes. She wears Ebony gauntlets and boots, with the Ebony Mail of Boethiah, and the Dragon Mask Nahkriin. She, too, wields various weapons, but her favorite is an Elven Greatsword enchanted with frost. K'ira's love interest.

Cicero (lunatic assassin)

Wearing and wielding his canon equipment. I threw him in for comic relief, but he won't be featured as much.

X

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" Fire erupted from a Blood Dragon's open jaws, as it rampaged through Dawnstar. The beast was furious, and directed solely at J'zargo, who had ducked behind a wall, saving himself from burning alive. "WULD NAH!" K'ira used only two of the three words of Whirlwind Sprint, to land squarely on the dragon's back. He stabbed downward with his sword Burntblood, watching as the soul-fuelled enchantment seeped continuously into the dragon. Its death was now inevitable, its only chance was to kill K'ira, preventing him from stealing its soul.

It bucked K'ira off, and reared up to stomp on him, but Brelyna Maryon, sword drawn and at the ready, roared, "FUS RO DAH!" the dragon, less stable on two legs, was sent toppling. Although not Dragonborn, she was a fast learner, and had managed to learn Unrelenting Force from K'ira, a willing teacher.

"that's my girl!"

"for the last time, I'm not your girl!" K'ira had been hitting on her for months, and she could never tell if he was serious, but the fur turned her off. "look out!" another dragon was swooping in, this one a powerful Elder Dragon. However, it flew right past the battlefield, clearly on a mission.

Cicero laughed and sang as he carved away at the prone Blood Dragon, singing a demented little jingle, but the dragon, finally standing up, swatted Cicero aside.

J'zargo aimed his lightning staff and fired, sizzling the dragon's throat, but still, it fought on, desperate in its death throes. It was crawling toward K'ira, but he stood, and growled. His fur changed from silver to black, and he shape shifted into a seven-foot-tall werewolf. His armour, custom forged, had joints which buttoned up, shortening the folded leather strips, but when he changed, the buttons popped open, allowing the leather to unfold and the armour to expand for his larger frame. The werewolf K'ira howled and tore through the armour scales of the dragon's chest, tearing into it. He disappeared into the bloody tunnel, and emerged out the dragon's back, drenched in blood. He took his sword from its spine, though his hands were too clumsy to wield it, and dove into the shore of Dawnstar. When he emerged, he was Khajit again, and he had buttoned up his armour once more. Burntblood hung on his right hip, as usual, and he was dripping wet, not in blood, but water. The dragon's soul flowed into him as its body burned away, revealing its ancient skeleton. Brelyna began taking notes on the skeleton, while K'ira tended to Cicero. He was hurt, but healing himself well enough. "well, that was fun," Cicero trilled through the pain. "can we visit Mother and Nazir? Cicero misses Mother."

"it couldn't hurt to stay the night."

"yeah, well, your Family creeps me out."

"they creep me out." K'ira responded, shrugging it off. "but Cicero's the worst of 'em, and he's with us all the time."

"K'ira makes a fair point. Besides, the inn here smells like wet dog. J'zargo hates dogs." J'zargo hung his staff on his back, next to his bow.

"that smell might be me," K'ira remarked.

"oh, you stink too, but not like actual dogs. The smell is dog."

K'ira chuckled.

"whoa, guys, look at this!" Brelyna pried a rib bone from the dragon skeleton. "it's carved."

"eh. Dragons have tattoos. Not our problem." K'ira polished some dried blood off the cursed dagger, Mehrunes' Razor.

"it's writing. Sometimes I wish you weren't as laid back."

"dragon runes, I guess? Toss it here." Brelyna grinned under her hood, but the mask Nahkriin was hanging on her hip, since she was no longer in battle. She swung and threw the rib bone at K'ira with all her strength, with a cry of "FUS!" to help it along. K'ira ducked, and the rib flew over him, landing next to J'zargo, who laughed. K'ira read the markings, and scowled. "that's not funny, Brelyna."

"what does it say?"

"fetch."

J'zargo snorted, then burst into laughter, collapsing onto the beach. Brelyna was still grinning. "I know you so well, I can predict you. 'Toss it here'…" she giggled.

"no more werewolf jokes. It's getting old."

"that was the best one yet!" J'zargo cackled, and rolled on the sand, clutching his side.

X

Nazir welcomed K'ira, J'zargo and Brelyna cheerfully, but when Cicero entered, he scowled. "I hate jesters."

"…and when I next meet that fair maid Nelly, I'll plunge my knife into her belly…" Cicero pretended not to notice.

Brelyna stepped away from the demented jester-assassin. "best you not try that with any other fair maids."

"oh? Ha! Cicero would never kill the Listener's girlfriend. That would be madness!"

"Cicero." K'ira grabbed Cicero by the shoulder and spun him. "she gets the threat, and so do I. Go visit Mother, before I carve off your ears. Then we'll know for sure, you're not the Listener."

Cicero blanched, which was rare. "oh, yes. Coming, Mother!" he dashed away hurriedly.

Brelyna watched him go. "I think you actually scared him."

"just be careful what you say to him."

"yeah, alright."

"the demented clown and his pet corpse. Isn't that how you put it, Nazir?" J'zargo laughed.

"I remember when he joined this little crew. Before I met you two. I'd just killed the emperor, and we'd moved into this Sanctuary. I was on my way to Solitude, and just out the door, and there he was. And I said, 'what in the name of Sithis?' Then he said he was going to kill me, and I bought it, too. Crazy, yeah, but he's actually not bad with the jokes."

"yeah. You know, I'll give you credit," Brelyna said. "you really have had some adventures."

"the party's just getting started."

X

After stocking up on supplies, the four, all on horseback, set out for the College of Winterhold. They arrived after three days' ride, and all slept in the Arch-Mage's quarters.

K'ira, restless, walked through the magelight-illuminated garden. His armour was folded and packed beside his bed. He was wearing his Arch-Mage robes, and toying with a powerful spell. He was trying to discern what school of magic could have created the power of lycanthropy that flowed in his veins. The residual wisdom of the ancient Arch-Mages guided him, but it had taken weeks for this moment. "Conjuration…"

"hmm." Brelyna rolled over in her sleep, startling K'ira.

"it's Conjuration," he thought to himself. "a wolf's spirit is conjured from Hircine's hunting ground. It's bound like a weapon, but permanent, and distorts the flesh and mind into something different. Conjuration. Maybe I can…" he shook his head. "not tonight."

He went back to sleep. At sunrise, he leapt out of bed, having had a peaceful night after his revelation. He put on his armour, and raised his hood. The others were asleep, so K'ira went to the roof, and practiced a Blizzard spell. The swirling ice and frost was easily visible from the courtyard below. "what about a Shout?" he said this as the blizzard died out, allowing J'zargo to hear. He had been woken but K'ira's mumbling last night, and had now concluded that K'ira was looking for a magical means to some end, somehow tied to shape shifting, or perhaps werewolves in particular. J'zargo was hiding under invisibility, and shamefully took it off.

"J'zargo can explain," he mumbled. "J'zargo heard magic, he was worried for his friend."

"just training.""no, J'zargo overheard. Something about a new spell."

"I'll explain if it works."

"so, where are we going now? Please, let it be a Dwemer ruin!"

"well, how does Alftand sound?"

"Dwemer bronze is valuable. Centurions are fun to fight. Lots of treasure hidden away. It all sounds good to J'zargo."

X

When they arrived at Alftand, they were startled to find it garrisoned. Dwemer Spheres were rolling around outside, and building a fence of Dwemer bronze. High Elves in Ebony armour were directing them somehow. "this doesn't look good."

"hey, Ebony is worth more than bronze," J'zargo commented greedily. "we can take them."

"if we're going in there, we're doing it with a plan."

Brelyna activated her Ebony Mail, and black smoke covered her entire body. "we'll wait until nightfall, and then I'll sneak in, and douse the lights. I'll give the signal for you three to follow, and we'll take them all down, before they raise an alarm. We should find out what they're up to."

K'ira nodded. Cicero made his glee very apparent. "oh, yes, we'll be up to our elbows in blood, and they'll never even know we exist!"

"I assure you, that won't be necessary," a voice said behind them. It was a High Elf, likely Thalmor, wielding a war axe. "sleep."

They all passed out.

J'zargo woke, and growled. His weapons were just outside his bronze cell, but they failed to realize J'zargo was a fearsome Destruction mage. He melted the bars with fire and took his equipment.

Meanwhile, Brelyna was still being led to her cell, and when she woke, she triggered her armour's poisonous shadow, causing the three guards carrying her to drop her and yelp. She landed on all fours, and drew two poisoned Daedric daggers, as the heavily armed guards circled her. She was crouched low, waiting, until one buffoon swung his war hammer. She killed all three before they realized she had moved. She sheathed her daggers and went in search of the others. She noticed her Dragon Mask was missing, but found it in a guard's pack. She hung it on her hip and kept going.

Cicero was laughing insanely in his cell, shaking the bars. Finally his guard had enough, and decided to kill him while he was unarmed. The guard entered the cell wielding Burntblood, and swung it at Cicero, who dodged and snapped the guard's neck with his bare hands. He wandered away with K'ira's sword, humming.

K'ira used Unrelenting Force to dispatch the two guards outside his cell, and then melted the lock with fire magic. He retrieved his weaponry, but knew by the sound that no less than five Dwemer Centurions were lurking outside the room. He would have to work together that new Shout, immediately. "High Elf. I need to do this." he took a deep breath, and roared, "KAAZ FIIK FAHLIIL!" Khajit, mirror elf! He felt his fur turn to pale yellow skin, and he grinned with a new face, then walked out. The Centurions merely watched him go. Brelyna rounded a corner and nearly crashed into K'ira. She put a dagger to his throat. "Brelyna, wait!"

"how did you know…"

"it's me. K'ira."

"prove it."

"the joke last week in Dawnstar. Fetch."

"by the Divines, how did you do it?"

"a Shout."

"impressive. Have you seen Cicero, or J'zargo?"

"not since we got knocked out."

"well, let's go get 'em."

"wait, KAAZ FIIK KAAZ!" he changed back to the furry face they knew so well. "took me a while to actually try it, but it worked like a charm."

"you were trying to figure out how to change shape already…" Brelyna mused. "better assassin work, huh?"

"yeah, sure, that's it…"

"oh, so that's not it. I'll figure you out yet... wait a minute, do that Shout again."

"okay… KAAZ FIIK FAHLIIL!" exactly as he hoped, he could choose what species of elf he transformed into, and this time, his skin was as grey as stone, his eyes a fiery red. "oh, sweet!" he stepped forward and kissed Brelyna, who quickly stepped back.

"well, you taste like you've been licking yourself. But at least you're the same species as me."

"I don't lick myself…"

"might just be my imagination. Anyway, now isn't the time for making out."

"at least you didn't ram a greatsword up my ass, that's a start."

Brelyna smirked. "I thought of it."

Meanwhile, J'zargo was felling guards left and right, taking their valuable swords and armour, and stowing them in an enchanted pouch at his waist. "Cicero!"

"ah!" Cicero waved between murders, and continued singing his evil songs of death.

"where are K'ira and Brelyna?"

"I don't know!" he laughed. "Listener and his fair maid Nelly or whatever, they'll be fine. Just enjoy the killing!"

Brelyna came running down the stone hallway, wielding her greatsword with terrifying skill. She charged, and with a fearsome battle cry, she killed ten men in half as many seconds. Behind her came another Dark Elf, but J'zargo only recognized the armour and dagger, which belonged to K'ira.

"who is this man? Where is K'ira?"

In answer to this, K'ira, still in the guise of a Dark Elf, bellowed, "OD AH VIING!" which summoned a great dragon's roar, shaking Alftand's very foundation.

"here's your sword, Listener!" Cicero said calmly, and handed Burntblood to the Dark Elf. Together, the four made their escape, with the great red dragon Odahviing carrying them away.

X

"well, that was fun," Cicero commented, while J'zargo bartered off the blood-drenched Ebony he had collected. They were in Whiterun, the three of them awaiting J'zargo's return, drinking mead in the Companions' base, Jorrvaskr.

Once again a Khajit, K'ira muttered, "what the hell were the Thalmor doing there?"

"something to do with Dwemer machines. I think they were experimenting on using them as soldiers." Brelyna took a swig of mead, and added, "it looks like they're succeeding."

"yeah. That doesn't sound good."

"well, we wiped out their collection and hopefully their research," Brelyna said cheerfully. "we'll just have to listen for any rumours of Thalmor activity, and keep an eye on them."

"fair enough."

"Cicero hates drinking. It makes insanity feel so normal…" Cicero left the table, stumbling and whining.

J'zargo entered, and dropped a sack of gold coins on the table in front of K'ira. "so how do we spend it?"

"the Thalmor only have a real presence in Solitude. There's a rather large mansion for sale there, Proudspire Manor. We can keep an eye on them from there."

X

Three weeks later, the last of their belongings had been moved into the Manor, and it was rather cozy. As a werewolf, K'ira lay curled up by the fire, asleep. Cicero sharpened a few new throwing knives, whistling to himself. J'zargo lay on his bed, writing a new scroll spell, hopefully more successfully than last time. And Brelyna lay on a couch, drifting on the edge of sleep. Beneath the fur, she mused, K'ira was actually charming. He was a heroic, honourable warrior with a storied past and a promising future. He was kind, intelligent, and when he was a Dark Elf, fairly handsome. Not to mention his enormous influence throughout Skyrim and his bottomless wealth…

But, her last thoughts before sleep were, "he stinks like wet dog, no matter what J'zargo says."


	2. Centurions, part 2

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 2: Centurions, Part Two

"_though I was born with the face of a Khajit, my soul is that of a dragon, therefore every form I take is equally artificial." - K'ira, 4E 203_

J'zargo unrolled a map, and showed it to K'ira. "the Thalmor are probably active on Markarth. That Dwemer museum… it's got everything they need to pick up where they left off."

"and what do you think they'll do?"

"oh, they'll try 'confiscating' it. If that doesn't work, they'll probably invade the Reach. It's valuable, too. Markarth is wealthy, but it's the only Dwemer city above ground in the known world. That's a sign the Dwemer were particularly active in the Reach."

"so, more Dwemer cities underground too." K'ira toyed with the hilt of his sword. "we could storm the museum, and garrison it, then warn Ulfric and Tullius."

K'ira heard a faint roar on the wind, and sprung into action. "dragons!" he climbed up to the roof of Proudspire Manor, and saw that he recognized the dragon. "Drem Yol Lok, Paarthurnax."

"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax replied as he landed on the roof. "not often do I leave the Throat of the World, but I see far from my perch. Markarth was invaded and captured just two days ago. I believe the attackers intend to spread."

"well, we weren't really sure if they'd attacked yet, but we know who's behind it."

"so you have plans to retake Markarth?"

"we do now."

"I will take this news to the other Holds. Good luck."

X

K'ira was disguised as a Dark Elf, because as a Khajit he was known throughout Skyrim as the Dragonborn. His horse Shadowmere was leading the other three horses, they were headed directly for Markarth. The great Dwemer city was just on the horizon. Brelyna muttered, "this seems like a really bad idea."

"trust me, we'll get in." all of them were dressed in normal clothing, with their armour and weapons stored in enchanted packs. K'ira wasn't watching where he was going, but Shadowmere kept him on the path. He was watching Brelyna's silky brown hair swaying in the breeze.

"stop staring at me. You're as creepy as Cicero."

"sorry."

Cicero was staying at home, he was too well-known in Markarth, for reasons he refused to divulge. Also, he was prone to singing random songs about gory death and brutality, which he had often sang with terrible timing.

They arrived at the gate. "hey, Khajit. No entry."

J'zargo growled, but said, "J'zargo will wait." he should have known, there was a long history of prejudice against Khajit, and since the Dragonborn was known to be Khajit, it made sense the Thalmor wouldn't let him in.

K'ira and Brelyna continued into the city. The usual residents had all seemingly been crammed into the area around the Warrens, while High Elves roamed the streets in full armour. "where to?" she asked.

"an old abandoned house just up ahead. The Daedric Prince Molag Bol uses it. Keep your wits about you."

They ducked into the home, filled with red fog, and laid out their equipment. Brelyna growled, "if you peek I'll throw you off the roof of the College."

K'ira smirked, but looked away while she changed, and she did the same courtesy for him. He transformed back into a Khajit, because he didn't want the Thalmor to know he could shape shift. Then, they charged out of the house with swords drawn, and attacked the Thalmor with a vengeance. The alarm was raised, and J'zargo killed the guards preventing his entry. He then donned his armour and entered the battle.

They battled their way to the carriages laden in Dwemer machines outside the museum. "FUS RO DAH!" K'ira and Brelyna bellowed at once, knocking the carts over, and then, K'ira roared "YOL TOOR SHUL!" to burn them. But five Dwemer Centurions, bronze robots the size of giants, rose from the ruined carts. Brelyna drew her greatsword, and K'ira drew Burntblood, as J'zargo arrived on scene and unsheathed Dawnbreaker. The three mortals charged against the five machines, and J'zargo was the first to disable a Centurion, with a strike to the machine's left leg. It fell to one knee, and Brelyna finished it with Unrelenting Force. K'ira did likewise to a second Centurion, but the robot slowly began to get up. Brelyna severed the feet, then the head of a third, as K'ira threw Mehrunes' Razor into the head of his kill, finishing it. Without slowing, he burst into werewolf form, and pounced on a fourth Centurion. J'zargo blew the fifth to bits with a powerful beam of lightning. K'ira came to his senses, realizing he was tearing the Centurion apart with his teeth. He transformed back into a Khajit, and looked around. The Centurions were destroyed, but Thalmor and Dwemer Spheres were surrounding them. He adjusted his armour, and flourished Burntblood. "Brelyna, J'zargo, give me some room."

"oh, J'zargo gets it. Brelyna had best step back." J'zargo had been allied with K'ira almost twice as long as Brelyna, he knew what was coming. Brelyna stepped back, warily, and K'ira roared, "SU GRAH DUN!" his sword doubled in speed, and he shot through the crowd of Altmer and Dwemer fighters, cutting them down left and right. Bodies were falling all around him, and Brelyna noticed the look in his eyes was eerily similar to Cicero's glare. He at last stopped whipping around the sword, with about a dozen Thalmor surrounding him, but they fell as he sheathed his blade.

"that looks to be the last of them."

"dear Gods, that was incredible!"

He retrieved Mehrunes' Razor from the felled Centurion, and sheathed it. "I don't use that one much, too hard to control."

"it was… awesome!" Brelyna said, and sheathed her sword.

"J'zargo concurs. It was awesome."

X

In Solitude, K'ira laboured over forging a golden ring inlaid with a large diamond and ribbons of Ebony. It was almost done. "is that a new amulet?" Beirand asked. He was the blacksmith who owned the forge, and one of the few who knew K'ira as a Dark Elf.

"yeah, this one will be impressive."

"will it be for sale?"

"sorry, no. you looking for jewellery?"

"well, I'm good with blades and armour, but I don't fare well with rings and necklaces."

"this one stays with me, but I'll pound out a few rings for your shop later."

"much appreciated."

K'ira finished the ring, and after letting it cool, said, "I'll see you around, Beirand." he went home to Proudspire, where he wasted no time in enchanting the ring with a Soul Gem the size of his head.

Cicero wandered into the room, just after K'ira put the ring in his pocket. "Listener? Could we maybe go to a Nord ruin next? So much fun, killing something a second time."

"yeah, sure. I was already thinking of Volskygge. The Draugr are getting out of hand there. Deathlords all over the place."

Brelyna came around a corner then. "yes! I was just about to mention that. Who told you? J'zargo?"

"Falk Firebeard, actually. He mentioned payment too."

"hey, Cicero?"

The demented jester turned to face Brelyna. "yes, my lady?"

"could you go get J'zargo? I think we should tell him about this."

"oh, yes, of course. Cicero lives to serve… and slice, and maim." Cicero hurried away, and Brelyna shut the door behind him. She darted forward and kissed K'ira.

"where did that come from?"

"I wanted to see if that furry taste in your mouth was still there."

"is it?"

"no. You're as much a Dunmer as me." They kissed again, and K'ira pulled out the magical ring. He gave it to Brelyna, who said, "whoa. I can feel the magical energy coming off this. Did you make it?"

"yeah, I used that giant Soul Gem. It heals you like a Frost Troll."

X

_I'd like to take a moment to mention romance stories aren't really my strong point. But, I really wanted to finally try it, especially since my little sister recently mocked me for never having written anything of the sort. However, I swear on the Nine there will never be a love triangle in anything I write. _

_After the next storyline, I'm not really sure what to do, so if you have any ideas, I'll very likely go with anything you send, but of course I'll give you credit. _

_Here's to shouting at people so loud you send them flying…_

Blue Wolf


	3. The Thieves Guild

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 3: The Thieves Guild

K'ira and Brelyna had disarmed each other long ago, and were now fighting unarmed in Proudspire Manor. They had never sparred so fiercely. K'ira had a very slight edge, being that he was born and raised in Elsweyr, where unarmed martial arts were often taught to the clawed Khajit residents. His arms were locked around Brelyna's waist, pinning her wrists to her sides and preventing retaliation. "three seconds and I'll get out of this," she said.

"yeah? How?"

Brelyna leaned her head back, brushing her hair against K'ira's cheek. He was suddenly aware of their rather intimate position, and very slightly loosened his grip.

Brelyna seized the opportunity and spun in his arms, leaping forward and knocking him down. "pin!"

She was beaming with joy at having bested the Dragonborn. "not even you can get out of this one."

K'ira smiled, not a sneer or a Khajit grin, but a smile. He kissed her, and she briefly stiffened, then relaxed. He very slowly rolled her onto her back, and when they stopped kissing, he looked around. "pin?"

"I've never been so happy after losing a fight," Brelyna replied, and kissed him again.

"ah, J'zargo is confused. Were you not fighting minutes ago?"

K'ira broke off the kiss and helped Brelyna up. "it's complicated," she said, and retrieved her greatsword.

"everything is complicated now. As if Thalmor storming Markarth weren't enough, the Dragonborn has changed his species to fall in love with an elf. Not that J'zargo disapproves, J'zargo merely finds it unusual."

"unusual wraps it up nicely," Brelyna said, but cheerfully. "wait, where in Oblivion is Cicero?"

"probably halfway to Volskygge by now, which is why J'zargo interrupted."

X

By the time the three arrived at Volskygge, Cicero had broken down the locked door, and his malicious laughter could be heard along with the death roars of Draugr Deathlords. "let's go help him out. Brelyna, take the lead. Sneak up as far as you can, and when they spot you, use your Thu'um. We'll charge in on that signal."

"yeah, no problem." she disappeared into the shadows of Volskygge, her Ebony Mail melting into the darkness. They had been in Volskygge once before, and found the Dragon Mask Volsung. "fus ro dah, all clear!" no thunderclap accompanied the words. K'ira and J'zargo made their way inside, and were greeted by Brelyna, Cicero, and two others.

"Brynjolf! Delvin!"

"well, you know us, lad, but I've never laid eyes on you before. The jester I know, but you…" Brynjolf fell silent. "by the gods! K'ira!" he recognized the Khajit voice and the sword Burntblood on his hip.

"confusing, I know."

"what happened to you?"

"being the Dragonborn… well, I guess you could say it changed me."

"Dragonborn!" Brynjolf spluttered. "you failed to mention that when we met. If you're Dragonborn, having you in the Thieves Guild could make us all filthy rich."

K'ira hesitated, then said, "only if my little guild is okay with joining too."

"J'zargo is not opposed to stealing."

"Cicero prefers killing, killing will keep Cicero busy while you all waste time picking locks and pilfering petty gold."

As Cicero left humming, Brelyna considered the decision. "Brelyna Maryon, Thief Princess of the Telvanni. It has a bit of a ring to it."

"shame about Cicero, but he'll be having fun just the same. But, where do we begin?"

"well, after you declined joining the first time, we did a few little jobs here and there, and we heard one of our best income sources, a bee farm called Goldenglow, had been sold to an unknown buyer. We couldn't find out who bought it, but we tracked down the middleman, one of our contacts in Solitude named Gulum-Ei. He, however, managed to escape our interrogation in Dragon Bridge, and fled the Hold. We finally tracked him down, but we only found a few scraps of him. The rest of the poor bastard is dragon dung by now."

"ooh," Brelyna shivered.

"normally dragons don't attack thieves, miss Maryon."

"it's not the dragons. It's being eaten that gets me."

"ah, I get it. But after the loss of Goldenglow really hit home, we started looking for places to raid, and Draugr aren't too bright. So, we stopped in at a few Nord ruins, harvested every septim in sight, and sold anything the Draugr were dumb enough to swing at us. But still, our resources are plummeting. We need income, fast, or the Thieves Guild is going down the drain. I don't get it. We should be swimming in gold with the work we're doing."

"maybe someone's stealing from the thieves," Brelyna offered.

"I damned well hope not."

"the Ragged Flagon. It's not a very cozy hideout, is it?"

"you've got a better suggestion?"

"why not here? We'll clear out the Draugr, stash our individual gold in caches no one else can find, and see who sneaks around looking for treasure first," J'zargo suggested.

"aye. I like your thinking."

"did this Gulum-Ei have any contacts outside the Guild?" K'ira asked.

"an Argonian Shadowscale assassin named Veezara, but we heard he was dead."

"he may well be. I knew him."

Days later, Cicero lurked quietly in the shadows of the Dawnstar Sanctuary, while K'ira talked with Nazir. "the Falkreath Sanctuary. When it was burned, did you see Veezara die?"

"no. I heard him hissing, and the sound of blood splashing, I think, but I never saw his body."

"so he may be alive."

"well, maybe. But why hasn't he contacted us?"

"the Shadowscales. He probably assumed our deaths, and fled to Black Marsh to train more Shadowscales. Thank you for this news, Nazir. If Veezara is alive, he may know who Gulum-Ei was working with, but even if he doesn't, he deserves to know the Family lives on."

X

Almost a month after this, K'ira got a response to the letter he sent. The letter was carried by a trained bat.

_I heard of the Emperor's assassination, old friend. But by that time, I was in Black Marsh, training the Shadowscales. No matter what commitment I have to the Family, I cannot leave my apprentices, but I can help you in your search. Gulum-Ei and I were good friends, and it pains me to hear of his death. He confided in me that he was betraying the Thieves Guild, and asked for my protection. I did protect him, until the damned Imperials attacked our Family. Apparently, he died not long afterward, but of his contact, I can tell you that she is a Dunmer woman who is more skilled in stealth than any assassin I have met. She can put an arrow through a skull from a mile away. Her name, I never found out, but I had the honour of fighting alongside her during an attempt on Gulum's life. I also have reason to believe she has ties to an almost mythical thief clan, the Nightingales, which I guessed from the emblems on her bow and sword. If you decide she must die, prepare yourself for the fight of your life._

He read this letter aloud to Brynjolf and the head of the Guild, Mercer Frey. Both were silent for a while, but finally Mercer spoke. "it's Karliah. K'ira, you didn't know, but Karliah killed my predecessor, and we've never been the same since."

"then we'll find her."

"actually, I think I have a lead on that. There's only a few places she could have gone without arousing suspicion. For one, she excelled at getting through Draugr ruins unscathed, so she may well have chosen one as her hideout. In addition, she'd want a particularly remote ruin. One in Winterhold, Snow Veil Sanctum, is likely her base, and I'm guessing that because she's sentimental. It's where she killed Gallus, the previous leader of the Guild."

"well, then, we're going there. Now."

"I like your initiative." Mercer turned, but K'ira grabbed him by the shoulder.

"I want to make this very apparent. There's a few people here I don't trust, but you are at the top of the list. Given that, and also that Karliah is apparently quite dangerous, you and I will not be going alone."

Mercer smirked. "I have no reason to object. Who's coming?"

"you, me, Brelyna, J'zargo."

"at least that damned lunatic Cicero isn't tagging along."

X

The thieves guild sequence continues next chapter, as the Dragon Knights and Mercer Frey head to Snow Veil Sanctum. However, veterans of the Thieves Guild storyline know that Frey is lying through his teeth, and attempts to kill the Dovahkiin in the Sanctum. How will he contend with the additional threats of Brelyna and J'zargo? How will Karliah escape them, and more importantly, reveal the truth about Mercer Frey and Gallus' death?


	4. Fall And Rise Again

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 4: Fall And Rise Again

Update: from now on I plan to upload at least one chapter every Monday,

"we're here," Mercer growled. Snow Veil Sanctum was near the top of the list of places he hated. Now, there was danger here. Karliah, of course, but now the Dragonborn, not to mention two powerful mages who were extremely loyal to him.

K'ira dismounted first. "how do we get in? surely she's locked it."

"and surely you know what a lockpick is."

J'zargo watched Mercer make his way to the Sanctum's door, then said calmly, "that might take a few tries, and it could be trapped. Knocking it down would be safer and would save time."

"you know some spell for it?"

"ah… no. Brelyna does."

"FUS RO DAH!" she roared, and the door was thrown open. Surprisingly, it wasn't rigged to a trap.

"oh, so now she's Dragonborn too?"

"no," Brelyna replied, and coughed in Mercer's direction, making him jump.

K'ira, the true Dragonborn, chuckled. "nice."

Brelyna smirked, but her fire-red eyes were still trained on Mercer. Clearly, she didn't trust him, but why? He had been very careful in everything. He hadn't left a trace. He stared right back at her, looking for any sign that might give her thoughts away. The Ebony Mail was an ancient Daedric relic, belonging to Boethiah, who was often considered a god by Dunmer. Nocturnal was another Daedric Mistress. Maybe Nocturnal had contacted her through Boethiah? Boethiah's Champion, striving to avenge Nocturnal's losses?

He shivered at the thought of having multiple Daedric Princes after his head. "well, are we going in?" he turned away from Brelyna and went inside.

K'ira and J'zargo followed, with Brelyna close behind. She came up behind K'ira, and whispered, "do you think he buys it?"

"he's flinching at everything. I think it's him," K'ira replied.

"what do we do?"

"wait for him to snap."

"I like it." the journey through Snow Veil Sanctum was riddled with Draugr, which they hacked to bits with indifference. They came across a pool or two of oil set to ignite on the slightest notice, surely traps set by Karliah, but they navigated across them safely. Then, at last, they came to one of the Nordic claw doors, which K'ira had plenty of past experience.

"ah, the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. Usually they're impossible to open without the right claw, but fortunately I know their weakness." he tinkered for about a second with the claw slot, then the door began to slide open. Sword drawn, K'ira stepped in, and was shot in the chest with a poison-tipped arrow.

Mercer roared, and spun on J'zargo and Brelyna, drawing his Dwarven sword. He whipped the sword into Brelyna's face, and she crumpled, her life spared solely by the Ebony Dragon Mask, Nahkriin. J'zargo was paralyzed by a powerful spell cast by Mercer, which also knocked him out. He turned to Karliah, and drew the dagger that went with his sword. She disappeared in a purple portal, but her voice remained.

"I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence."

"these fools learned that the hard way. But I see you've finally worked up the guts to return."

"Nocturnal gives me strength, but I'm not going to kill you for Nocturnal, I'm going to kill you for Gallus."

"Gallus was a waste of skin. I can see why you liked him, you had so much in common." there was no response, so he turned back to the three. Not one was dead, and he could see that. His primary target was K'ira, who was watching, immobilized. If he recovered even the use of his mouth, he would surely Shout Mercer to death. He callously stabbed into K'ira's chest, but Brelyna sprang to her feet, screaming profanity and Shouting with fury. Nothing would prevent her from saving K'ira from bleeding out.

Karliah seized the opportunity and opened fire on Mercer. He was forced to run, and escape the ruin with his life intact but his pride ravaged.

Brelyna was already huddled over K'ira, repairing his wound with a powerful Restoration spell. She specialized in Conjuration, but her skill with Restoration had increased dramatically during her travels with K'ira, J'zargo, and often Cicero.

The Dragonplate armour was pulverized, pieces of dragon bone were falling off of the leather frame everywhere. It seemed Mercer had acquired a sword with some sort of armour-destroying enchantment. Even as she watched his wound heal, the dragon bones turned to ash.

"why is he breathing so shallowly?"

"it's a paralytic poison, he'll be fine in a few hours." Karliah, now fully present, began to dissolve the paralysis on J'zargo.

K'ira came to, gasping against the poison, and struggled to stand, to chase Mercer. He growled, then howled, and his armour, now just frail leather, finally tore apart as he transformed into a werewolf, but still, he barely managed to crawl forward on all fours. "K'ira, wait. I'll cure you." the words registered, but barely, and he collapsed, twitching slightly. She gave him a potion brewed to counteract poison, which he drank gratefully, and sat up, groaning, as his fur dissolved into dark grey skin. His chest was bare, exposing the fresh scar on it. He tossed aside the fractured gauntlets and boots, now dressed only in an old, worn pair of pants.

"that bastard dies. I don't care who does it, but he dies."

"agreed," Karliah muttered. It's a blizzard outside, you need something to wear."

K'ira whistled, summoning the faithful Shadowmere, who barely fit in the ruin's halls. From a saddlebag, he took his change of clothes, an old grey robe. He picked up Burntblood off the floor, and hung it at his waist. "Brelyna, the mask…" he pointed to Nahkriin, nearly sliced in half. Only a thin strip of metal above the left ear and below the right ear kept it together. "we need new equipment."

"so we'll head back to Proudspire."

"first thing's first." he embraced Brelyna and kissed her. "you saved my life."

"oh, the drama." Karliah scowled. "you would have been fine."

"ignore her," Brelyna mumbled through the kiss.

J'zargo came to, and saw the confusing scene. "ah. I need some mead. No, Colovian Brandy."

X

Karliah had managed to decode Gallus' journal, which had been written in Falmer glyphs, but it had taken until mere days before the attack by Mercer, K'ira, and crew. Its secrets were disturbing enough to convince Brynjolf to allow Karliah to rejoin the Thieves Guild. They discovered Mercer's betrayal, and the empty vault in the Ragged Flagon only furthered their fury. "K'ira. Under normal circumstances, I'd be loath to send you, but I want you to infiltrate Mercer's house, steal what you can and find out his plans. Bring Brelyna, but leave the cat with me. He's good with that lightning, he'll help us fight Mercer if he's fool enough to return."

K'ira was still seething with a lust for vengeance, too much to speak more than the bare minimum. He went without a weapon of any kind, merely his clothes and the Ring of Hircine. He wasted no time in tearing down a barred door and charging in, killing the guards with explosions of fire. Brelyna had a bow ready, prepared to pick off anyone K'ira had missed, but he had killed them all.

They eventually found a hidden passage through a wardrobe, and after dodging an extensive set of traps, they found Mercer's study. Prominent was a collection of gems in a bowl, which Brelyna scooped up, while K'ira picked open a display case housing a sword of blue glass. As he wrapped his fingers around the hilt, its blade began to emit waves of white, chilling fog. He hung it at his hip, where Burntblood usually hung.

"the Grey Fox." Brelyna mumbled.

"huh?" he turned to see Brelyna looking at a bust of a masked thief.

"the Grey Fox. One of the greatest thieves of all time, apparently." Brelyna traced the outline of the mask with her finger. "I could use a new mask…"

"Brelyna Maryon, alias the Thief Princess, alias the Grey Fox. You're really taking a liking to this thief stuff."

"all the subterfuge, the stealth. Yeah, I like it." she sighed. "the cowl was destroyed ages ago."

"I'll make you a new one. The return of the Grey Fox… maybe it would really clean this Guild up."

"oh, I like that idea."

"but, we still have that snake Mercer to deal with."

Brelyna snatched up the notes and maps that comprised Mercer's plans. "let's go kill a snake, then."

X

Brynjolf, Karliah, K'ira, Brelyna, and J'zargo met outside Nightingale Hall, and Karliah led the way through the gloom, holding a torch in her left hand and a Nightingale sword in her right. "after what I've seen, what I've heard of these last few years, it is clear to me that there is only one possible course of action for the Thieves Guild, if we are to survive." Karliah's voice was barely above a whisper. "the Nightingales must return."

"were they gone?" Brynjolf asked.

"no, but there were only three of us. Mercer, Gallus, and me."

"now how many will there be?" K'ira asked.

"to begin, the five of us. But more will rise through the ranks of the Guild, and should be inducted into the Nightingales."

"so, folk like Delvin and Vex."

"as long as Nocturnal allows it."

"I'm not much for religion," Brynjolf muttered.

"it's not about religion or belief. It's about business, Nocturnal's business." she lit some dead torches in the ancient hall. "we're here. Stand before Nocturnal's altar and receive her blessing."

K'ira, J'zargo, and Brelyna each stood before a stone pedestal, emblazoned with the Nightingale symbol. Upon the slightest touch of a finger, their clothes and armour were replaced by Nightingale armour. Each suit was varied for their needs. K'ira's set could expand like his old suit of Dragonplate, and also lacked a mask, instead there was only a shadowy hood to guard his head. J'zargo's armour lacked a cape, to avoid irritating his tail. Brelyna's armour was styled very differently. Notably was the lack of a mask. Instead, Nocturnal had given her a cowl identical to that of the Grey Fox, underneath the hood. Also, her Ebony Mail had transformed, and was now an outer layer of Ebony over the Nightingale armour.

Then, Brynjolf and Karliah received their armour. It was only then that K'ira and Brelyna noticed that their armour had a shared feature. The light, yet sword-proof capes on their armour could wrap all the way around them like a robe, but traditionally, as shown on Brynjolf and Karliah's armour, the cape merely hung on the wearer's back. "you appear ready for the oath." silently, she led the other four to the final chamber of Nightingale Hall, where new initiates gave an oath to Nocturnal. They stood on stone pedestals, islands amid the shallow blue water. "Lady Nocturnal, please forgive me and take these young Nightingales under your wing."

"I'm sure you have expected punishment for your failure, Karliah, and perhaps you have been preparing for years for that punishment. But, you failed to foresee that you would bring to me the most valuable mortal in Skyrim." Nocturnal made her presence known by a white light on the central large pedestal. "the Dragonborn, slayer of the World Eater, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Arch-Mage of Skyrim, oh, the list goes on. Every afterlife in Aetherius and Oblivion yearns to see your soul in its realm. But for now, I am satisfied to enlist you in this mortal plane. Karliah, your debt is repaid, your failures forgiven."

The light faded, and Karliah sighed.

"well," K'ira began, and stepped off the pedestal, "yet another Daedra after my soul. But I have a fine set of new armour, a razor-sharp new sword, and a man I plan to kill with it. It's time we set to work on Mercer Frey's death."


	5. Nightingale's Creed

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 5: Nightingale's Creed

Foreword: this chapter is a reference to Assassin's Creed, the greatest video game series I have ever played, although I admit that Skyrim, as a lone game, easily ties in awesomeness with the latest game, Revelations, and beats the previous three. In fact, the modifications I made to K'ira's and Brelyna's armour were mostly intended to have them more resemble Assassin robes, as did the combination of white Dragonplate armour and a white hood.

Also, a little nod to Lord of the Rings hidden in this one. See if you can find it…

X

Windhelm was Mercer's final stop on the path to Irkngthand, where he would retrieve the Eyes of the Falmer and live the rest of his life off their value. They were two massive diamonds the size of melons, perfectly cut and polished.

But he was terrified. The Guild had stolen his plans, and his prized sword, Chillrend. Surely they were tailing him, but he had killed Gallus, and perhaps the Dragonborn. He could handle a few thieves, right?

He jumped, terrified. He realized a hooded, robed figure was following him through Windhelm, just inside a group of citizens. Killing him would surely leave at least one witness alive to report him, he couldn't risk the fury of the Stormcloak Army.

But where was that robe from? It vaguely resembled Greybeard robes, but it wasn't tattered, and the Greybeards never left High Hrothgar.

Could it be the Dark Brotherhood? No, it was dark grey, and the Dark Brotherhood wore black and red robes.

He risked another glance back. The man was smirking, and his grey chin suggested he was a Dark Elf, but the rest of his face was obscured. And then, he flicked open his cloak, which Mercer thought was a robe, revealing Nightingale armour, the likes of which Mercer hadn't seen since he killed Gallus.

As the hooded Nightingale drew Chillrend, Mercer broke into a run. The Nightingale, who Mercer had realized was K'ira, followed, easily gaining on him. Over a year of wearing heavy Dragonplate made his muscles strong, and now in the almost airy lightness of the Nightingale armour, he was much faster than Mercer. However, Mercer was desperate, so he picked up the pace and ducked around a corner into an alley. He panted, and leaned against the wall, readying his only possible means of escape. He caught his breath and prepared to walk away, but another Nightingale, wearing the cowl of the Grey Fox, blocked him. He turned to the other exit, but K'ira was there. Surrounded, Mercer began to panic, but then, he smirked, and drew his sword, keeping his left hand balled into a fist. K'ira and Mercer duelled, while the Grey Fox stalked forward, a Daedric Sword in each hand. Then, Mercer released his fist, and a flash of white light blinded K'ira and Brelyna, as Mercer teleported away.

Both K'ira and Brelyna still had their swords ready, cloaks folded over their backs. K'ira was the first to sheath his blade, and lowered his hood. Brelyna took a moment before sheathing her swords, and then wrapped her cloak around herself. "looks like he'll reach Irkngthand after all."

K'ira shrugged. "that's not so bad. He'll lead us right to the Eyes."

"We're filthy rich already, they should go to the Guild."

X

Irkngthand was partly a Dwemer ruin overrun by Falmer, partly a Falmer village. K'ira was far ahead of the other Nightingales, cutting through Falmer with ease. Brelyna and J'zargo were close behind, followed by Karliah, and lastly Brynjolf, who was so far behind, he didn't even need to draw a weapon. The Falmer village was fairly extensive, but at last they came through it all and found Mercer prying the Eyes of the Falmer from the giant bronze statue which dominated the final cavern of Irkngthand. "about time you people caught up!" he was wearing heavy Ebony armour, hoping it would protect him. "the Nightingales. You're pathetic, and so is Nocturnal!"

"and what Daedra gives you aid? What could give you the courage to face us all?"

"I don't need the Daedra!" he whistled, and a dozen Ebony-shelled thugs came from behind the statue. "I can buy a life, and an afterlife."

They drew glass swords in tandem, and leapt from the statue to the Nightingales. What followed was total chaos.

K'ira killed three before they could swing, but then five more surrounded him while the rest went after the other Nightingales. They defeated the thugs and killed them, but Mercer had already closed the gap, and was among them with his Dwarven sword and dagger. The Nightingales backed up, except K'ira who met him in single combat. His cloak billowed out behind him as he pushed Mercer back. Even the slightest scratch from Chillrend would freeze the blood, but Mercer's armour was thick. The two were running low on stamina, and Mercer in particular could barely hold his sword up.

Then, the turning point came. Mercer lunged forward and swung his sword from left to right, but K'ira easily deflected the blow and dragged Chillrend along the blade of the Dwarven sword, stabbing into Mercer's throat. In shock, Mercer dropped his sword, and began to collapse. K'ira caught him and gently lowered him to the ground. He coughed blood, which froze on his chin, and groaned. "are you expecting me to repent? To feel remorse in my final moments? I regret nothing."

"your soul is already pledged to Nocturnal. I hope she forgives you."

"ha! I have escaped Nocturnal."

"how?"

"Hircine," he gasped, and felt his life ebbing away.

"you chose lycanthropy, and Hircine's Hunting Grounds. Now, you don't have any more time to change that decision. I hope you're happy with it."

"oh, it's better than her…" he coughed, choked, and fell silent.

"you poor cowardly bastard." K'ira stood, and picked up Mercer's pack in front of the statue. Inside were the Eyes of the Falmer, and Nocturnal's Skeleton Key. "you could have lived as a thief forever."

"K'ira, we have to go!"

"huh?" The chamber was collapsing and flooding. There seemed to be no escape. "wait, look up there! It'll take us to that air tunnel, we can get out of here!" K'ira leapt from the statue into the rising water, and rode its surface upward until they reached a tunnel far above, with sunlight at its end.

They were all drenched, but they had the Eyes and the Skeleton Key.

"well, that was fun," K'ira said, quoting Cicero's favourite line.

J'zargo scowled, and Brelyna shivered. She detached her soaked cloak from her armour, as K'ira used fire magic to dry his, then wrapped his arms and cloak around Brelyna. She hugged him back, as she felt her body heat slowly return. The water had been frigid. They shared a brief kiss, as J'zargo removed his hood and mask to shake the water from his fur.

X

K'ira and Brelyna traveled alone to the Twilight Sepulcher, with the Skeleton Key in hand. The ghost of Gallus greeted them upon entry. "the Dragonborn, and the Grey Fox? Come to return the Skeleton Key! At last, things are looking up. My death, avenged…"

"you're Gallus, I presume? Former leader of the Nightingales?"

"I was… but you, Brelyna Maryon, are Nocturnal's Chosen. You are destined for greatness, as much as K'ira."

"and how do you know our names?" K'ira lowered his head, obscuring his entire face in the shadow of his hood.

"death allows one to see what the living cannot. Your very souls are visible to me," Gallus responded. "but the way is shut. Only the Skeleton Key can open the portal, but the path was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it." he repeated, "the way is shut…"

"we have come to open the way," Brelyna said, and held out the Skeleton Key.

"beware of the dead," Gallus moaned. "they see your names, yes, but not who you are. They will risk a second death to defend what remains of the Sepulcher."

Brelyna and K'ira made their way deeper in, but were almost immediately confronted by two ghosts wearing Nightingale armour. Each Nightingale battled with one of their ancient predecessors, sword against bow, and won, before continuing deeper. Soon, they came into a vast expanse of walkways lit by hovering fireballs. The outer walls were so far away as to be invisible in the gloom, and it looked as though the floor was floating in darkness.

Brelyna walked out into the room, but as soon as the light of the fire touched her, it began to leech away her very life. K'ira lunged forward and shielded Brelyna with his cloak, stepping into the light with his back toward the flame. It began to attack him, too, but he was only there briefly, before both he and Brelyna made it out of the light. Brelyna immediately began to heal, due to her enchanted ring, but K'ira used a healing spell on himself. "damn… stay in the shadows," Brelyna muttered, and ruffled her cloak around herself, then breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the burning pain faded. "are you okay?""I will be in about two seconds," he replied, and laughed.

"what in Oblivion was that?"

He shrugged, and continued along the path of shade. Brelyna glanced back at the fire, then followed. They eventually reached the end of the maze, and followed a tunnel further in, past a statue of Nocturnal. A bandit lay dead at the feet of the Daedric Mistress. "Lady Luck wasn't feeling generous when this guy showed up."

"Lady Luck," Brelyna echoed. "well put." They continued into the next room, a circular chamber dominated by a sheer drop-off into a pit trap. "where to now?"

"down," K'ira said, and jumped. He held his cloak as a parachute, slowing his fall to a gentle glide, and landed in the center of the room. Brelyna repeated the move perfectly, but the moment her feet hit the floor, it dissolved. In the chamber below, Brelyna returned the Skeleton Key to its lock.

Nocturnal burst upward out of the purple light, along with a hundred screaming crows. One look at the skimpy robes Nocturnal wore was all Brelyna needed to see. "K'ira, don't let me catch you staring," she growled.

K'ira chuckled. Nocturnal began, "Dragonborn, we meet again, but this time I see a Nightingale even more valuable to me than you." she turned to Brelyna. "though you did not know, you have come here to become my Champion. My Chosen. From Oblivion, and apparently Aetherius, a spectator can see much that happens in the mundane realm. I have seen a glimpse of your future, Grey Fox, and I see greatness. Your legend will match his…" she gestured to K'ira, "but you must be ready for it. Both of you will go now, with my gifts, and leave immediately, for I have much to attend to."

Brelyna began to reply, but total darkness consumed them, and when it lifted, she and K'ira were standing outside the Sepulcher. "well, that's gratitude for you."

Night was falling, and quickly. "ah, forget about it." _Go now, with my gifts. K'ira went to take off his gloves, but found that a bracer of the same grey, feather-light metal was strapped over the glove. He tinkered with it for a moment, then found a mechanism attached to the underside of the bracer. He flicked his wrist away from himself, and the mechanism sprang open, releasing a hidden blade which locked into place. Another simple flick of the wrist, and it retracted, completely concealed. One of these were on each of his wrists, as well as Brelyna's. He released the blade again, and took a closer look. The blades were Ebony, polished and gleaming, but they also glowed a faint red, an enchantment to absorb life energy, commonly known as an Absorb Health enchantment. They were lightly engraved with a feather-like pattern. "this is better than any dagger."_

"_Cicero's going to want one," Brelyna said, and chuckled._

_X_

_The people of Solitude were gathered around the gallows, awaiting the execution of an Imperial Legate accused of murder, one Helios Ladorius. The headsman, Ahtar, had been sharpening his axe for the occasion._

_But then, as the axe was at its height, ready to come down on Helios' neck, an Ice Spear came from a rooftop, knocking the axe from Ahtar's grip. He growled, drawing a dagger, as the guards assumed a defensive formation. _

_J'zargo fired two more Ice Spears from the rooftop, killing two guards, while K'ira stalked through the crowd. Brelyna distracted the cluster of guards, dispatching them one by one, but two spotted K'ira as he climbed onto the execution platform. They charged toward him, but J'zargo killed them both with simultaneous bolts of lightning. Unhindered, K'ira extended his right-hand hidden blade, which he called a Nightingale Feather. Ahtar had already thrown his dagger at J'zargo and missed. With his left hand, K'ira grabbed Ahtar by the shoulder and stabbed into his heart with his right hand. He stepped past Ahtar as the man fell, dead. He hauled Ladorius to his feet as Brelyna finished the last of the guards, and he cast an illusion to make himself and Ladorius invisible._

_From there, it was a quick walk to Proudspire Manor. "why did you save me?" Helios asked._

"_you were falsely accused of the murder of a Nord sellsword by the name of Belrand, correct?"_

"_yeah."_

"_well, aside from justice and all that, I saved you because you can help me find out who framed you. Either someone who hated Belrand, or someone who hates you. As for Ahtar, he was a Dark Brotherhood contract."_

"_alright, I'll help you. And you'll let me live, right?"_

"_obviously."_


	6. Invasion

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 6: Invasion

X

This is the beginning of a story arc that will take K'ira and his allies across Skyrim, from Solitude to Skuldafn, and will eventually explore the afterlife, but it is NOT the end. No… in fact, this is the beginning of a new era. We will see K'ira pushed to the limit, losing almost everything he holds dear, and fighting to get it back, beyond even the barrier of death, and it is then that he will discover that his destiny as Dragonborn goes far beyond slaying the World Eater. After K'ira fights through this challenge, he will prepare for the cataclysm that will begin the Fifth Era, as gods, dragons, Daedra and mortals will take sides in a war that will shake Tamriel to its core. But will one Thu'um be enough?

X

K'ira surveyed Solitude from the roof of Proudspire Manor. Helios Ladorius had fled the city earlier that day, and he wasn't the only Imperial Legate in trouble. Today alone, two had been killed, and both murders had been blamed on Ladorius himself. His cloak billowed in a breeze that blew from behind him. "K'ira! There's been another attack!" He spun. Brelyna was standing there, panicked, and wielding a Daedric sword in each hand.

"who was it this time?"

"Legate Rikke, she's still fighting. Come on!"

They dashed over the rooftops of Solitude, to the top of the city wall, where they looked down over the surrounding land. Rikke's carriage was overturned, and she was fending off Dwemer machines with help from J'zargo and Cicero. K'ira reasoned that even if he used his cloak to slow himself, he wouldn't survive such a jump, so he looked around, and far below, he saw another carriage, this one filled with hay to be taken to the stables. He climbed onto the parapet, and threw himself forward, plummeting into the hay far below. He climbed out of the hay, heart pounding, and drew his sword, Chillrend. He charged into battle, roaring out the words of Unrelenting Force, until he realized Brelyna was doing the same. She had jumped right after him, and was now whipping her swords through Dwemer armour.

There was only one reason Dwemer machines would attack Solitude. Clearly, the Thalmor were preparing to attack Skyrim, and wanted to eliminate as many Imperial commanders as possible beforehand.

As he joined the battle, his mind was whirring with the implications of this attack. The Thalmor had sworn that they had attempted to study the Dwemer machines in Markarth, not invade Skyrim, and to evade another Great War, the Empire had accepted a formal apology, but this was a declaration of war. The Thalmor would soon invade Solitude itself, therefore it was no longer safe. Where would they go, to escape the invasion?

He snarled in frustration, and before he could rein in his fury, his armour began to tear away as he grew, changed, into the wolf form he had not yet mastered. He tore the remaining Dwemer machines to bits, and then lowered himself to all fours, panting. He shrank back down to his normal size and shape, then took up the tattered remains of his armour, which turned to smoke at his touch, then reassembled on his body. "that helps," J'zargo said cheerfully, "but we still have a problem."

"what's wrong?" he turned to J'zargo, finding him standing over Legate Rikke, who was curled up in terror. Of course, she didn't know about his lycanthropy. Very few people did. "Rikke." she flinched, and reached for her sword. "Rikke, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you. I swear to Talos."

"Talos," Rikke murmured, and stopped trying to grab a weapon. Rikke was, in fact, a Talos worshipper, a rare trait among Imperial soldiers. "what… are you?"

"I'm a werewolf. I'm not a Hircine worshipper, I'm not a bloodthirsty monster, I'm not powerless to prevent my transformations, I never snap and tear people to bits."

Rikke let this reassurance sink in, then said shakily, "I have to tell the General about these things," and gestured to the ruined machines.

"tell him the Thalmor are going to invade," K'ira replied.

"where are you going?"

"Markarth. It's their next target."

"we shouldn't just ride in," Brelyna said. "let's call Odahviing."

"I miss that guy," J'zargo mused. "having a dragon to aid us makes us nearly invincible."

"well, let's just hope they don't try to shoot us out of the sky… OD AH VIING!"

The great red dragon came over the horizon in seconds, roaring to signal his approach. He landed thunderously before the five, and Rikke jumped back, but she had heard of Odahviing, son of Akatosh, and knew that he was to be trusted. "it has been long since you last summoned me to battle, Dovahkiin, and I thirst for the blood of our foes."

"we ride to Markarth, brother, to defend it from an army."

X

The Aldmeri Army was in full force outside Markarth, but they didn't have the element of surprise, as they did last time. So, they were stuck outside, laying siege to a city of bronze and stone. Odahviing, K'ira, and Brelyna all roared, "FUS RO DAH!" at once, sending Thalmor soldiers flying in all directions. Odahviing landed amid them, and the four jumped off his back, swords and daggers at the ready. Cicero, overjoyed to be among the Dragon Knights again, wielded his dagger with renewed energy and newly written tunes of death. Brelyna had taken to wielding two swords very well, and fought with even greater skill than she had with her greatsword. K'ira had been trying to convert his style of combat to more match J'zargo's strategy, using Destruction spells as a main offence, along with the other four schools to supplement his formidable arsenal. K'ira had a distinct preference for a Master-level spell called the Lightning Storm, which fired a continuous torrent of electricity at a target, however, he was immobile while casting it. On the upside, his foes often disintegrated before they could attack him. But, he couldn't keep up the spell for long, so he eventually had to return to his sword.

He duelled with a Thalmor officer wielding an unusual sword which appeared to be made of bone. The officer had the upper hand with a sword, so K'ira allowed him to knock Chillrend from its master's grip. Immediately, he sprung open the Nightingale Feathers, and stabbed into the elf's stomach with both hands. He was still clumsy with the Feathers, having only had them for mere weeks, and only having wielded them twice. He retrieved Chillrend, and rejoined J'zargo, who was completely surrounded. J'zargo, however, was already preparing a Blizzard spell, so before K'ira could reach him, a explosion of frost magic consumed him and his adversaries. Satisfied with J'zargo's safety, he then turned to Odahviing and Brelyna, who were fighting side by side against seven Dwemer Centurions. Clearly, the Thalmor had succeeded in manipulating the ancient machines. K'ira made his way through the sea of Thalmor, and began to notice that Odahviing was severely injured. His wings were in tatters, his snout slashed and mauled, and about a dozen Thalmor were trying to get at his stomach, which he only barely kept safe with a bloody tail. His brother needed his help. "FIIK LO SAH!" he bellowed, a Shout he had learned from the Greybeard Arngeir. A phantom clone of himself sprang up among the Thalmor, and swung a ghostly copy of Chillrend. While the Thalmor fended off blows from a sword that couldn't cut them, the real K'ira closed in, and vaulted up onto Odahviing's back. "FUS RO DAH!"

The Thalmor were flung backward, easily twenty feet, and countless soldiers were caught in the wave of Unrelenting Force.

K'ira began healing Odahviing, but it was no small task. Meanwhile, J'zargo aided Brelyna and Odahviing in dealing with the Centurions. Odahviing's Fire Breath seemed to be melting whatever machinery powered the Centurions, so Brelyna summoned a Flame Atronach for each Centurion, and J'zargo unleashed Destruction fire on them, and, one by one, they fell.

The Thalmor were slowly retreating away from Markarth, enough space from Markarth's besieged army to open the gates safely and join the battle. Once they entered the fray, it was all over. The Thalmor were in full retreat within minutes, and out of Skyrim in less than two hours.

X

K'ira and Brelyna sparred with wooden swords, secluded in a tent. "they're not going to give up on Markarth, especially not when the consequences are inevitable," Brelyna remarked, and dodged a quick strike from K'ira.

K'ira ducked an attack from Brelyna, and said, "maybe it's good that this is happening. Really, the White-Gold Concordat has most of the Empire infuriated, and Skyrim wants to secede into its own country just to fight against it. This'll get Ulfric to cooperate with Tullius, and end the rebellion."

"I damn well hope so." K'ira dropped his sword. "no tricks this time, I surrender." he raised his hands over his head.

Brelyna dropped her sword, and was silent for a moment. "what's going through your head, K'ira? You've never surrendered to me before."

"I'm just a little worried, with the Thalmor declaring war."

"uh-huh." Brelyna pulled up a chair at the table, and gestured for K'ira to sit. "what's really on your mind, K'ira?"

"you don't believe me?"

"nope."

K'ira smiled slightly. "sometimes I really get the vibe you're the only smart one."

X

J'zargo and Odahviing flew over Markarth at sunrise, watching for Aldmeri forces to make another attack, but it seemed they had given up. "surely by now you long to fly with your own wings," Odahviing commented.

"J'zargo has seen men fly before. Often when they are kicked by giants, but the task can be accomplished with magic. It is difficult, but J'zargo hopes to learn it soon."

"look there," Odahviing said, and nodded toward Vlindrel Hall. "this is the most frequently attacked city in Skyrim now, if the Dragon Knights were to move there, we would effectively guard the city. It also provides a great view, and I could make my home on the roof."

"J'zargo will mention it."

"I really do like this city, cat," Odahviing continued. "blood and silver, two things the Dov love."

"land on the roof of the Hall, and let J'zargo off."

"as you command," Odahviing replied, and landed. It was then that he saw what J'zargo had seen. K'ira was looking over the side of Vlindrel Hall's mountainous walkway. "Dovahkiin… perhaps you share our theory?"

"it's not that simple," K'ira replied, "although I know what you're referring to. We're moving in."

J'zargo dismounted from Odahviing's saddle, and looked over the railing with K'ira. "you finally did it, didn't you?"

K'ira nodded. "Brelyna and I, we're getting married in three days."


	7. Wedding Day

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 7: Wedding Day

X

X

Prologue: Requiem

Alduin roared, "SLEN TIID VO!" while hovering over Kynesgrove's dragon burial mound, and a wing of bone burst free, growing flesh as the rest of Sahloknir climbed free of the grave.

"I am Sahloknir, hear my voice and despair!" he thundered, but K'ira struck him down with ease.

Delphine watched in awe as K'ira absorbed Sahloknir's soul, but K'ira had more worries than what Delphine was about to say. Sahloknir was clearly brought back to life, not enthralled as a zombie, because his soul had returned to his body. The Shout had resurrected a dragon, not a dragon's corpse.

Later, at High Hrothgar, after Alduin's death, K'ira questioned Arngeir. "that Shout, slen tiid vo, what did it mean?"

"it means 'flesh, time, undo.'"

"nothing in there specifically addresses dragons…"

Arngeir froze. "I can't bind you to any promises, but I must ask you, to try not to use that Shout. It has taken Alduin countless centuries to master that Shout, and the farther you are from his portal to Sovngarde, the harder it becomes to perform. Doing it improperly will kill you."

X

K'ira looked around at the beautiful forest all around them. The wedding was far from any cities, and relatively few came. J'zargo, Odahviing, Veezara, Nazir, Cicero, Brynjolf, and Karliah, for instance, were there.

Brelyna approached the altar in a silk dress, with the scent of mountain flowers following her.

The priest of Mara began to talk, but the ceremony passed in a blur for both K'ira and Brelyna. One minute, they were standing before the altar, the next, they were dancing in the forest. For hours, the celebration continued, and those were the most joyous moments of their lives.

And then the forest exploded into flame. Swords drawn, the newlyweds attempted to fend off their unseen attacker, but it was no use. Cicero was dead, and the other guests were being paralyzed or burned alive.

A Dwemer Centurion knocked aside a tree, and made its way into view. It was made not of bronze, but Ebony, and was followed by a Thalmor soldier. "you bastards, you're all going to your damn Sovngarde in about ten seconds…"

The Centurion turned on the soldier and swatted him with a hammer-shaped arm. "fool. I am here to challenge the Dragonborn!" it roared, in the voice of a Daedra, specifically Mehrunes Dagon. "but first, perhaps I'll step on Nocturnal's Chosen."

Dagon's robotic servant threw its arms upward, and time froze for everyone but Brelyna and Dagon. She took it on with her twin swords, but she was losing ground rapidly. Mehrunes' robot was falling apart, but just when it looked like Brelyna might win, the Centurion's exterior fell apart, revealing an untouched Ebony Dwemer Sphere. Brelyna was exhausted and bleeding, but K'ira was held back, all he could do was scream with desperation, then horror as the Sphere impaled Brelyna.

Mehrunes Dagon then made the mistake of releasing K'ira, who nearly exploded with Destruction magic and Words of Power. The Sphere was hacked to bits before it could move, and the forest was burning down around them. He ran to Brelyna, who still clung to life, but she was drooling blood. He tried to heal the stab wound in her belly, but she was already fading away. "Brelyna… you can still hear me, right?"

"yeah," she coughed. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

"I think so," he said, tears rolling down his cheeks, but continued, "just close your eyes. I promise you'll wake up."

"K'ira, it burns. I can feel him tearing my soul away."

K'ira froze. He knew a way to truly bring back the dead, but not if their soul was stolen. He would have to go to Oblivion and face Dagon to reclaim her soul. "oh, Gods… Brelyna?" there was no response. The Grey Fox was dead.

K'ira screamed, roared, and howled all at once.

X

Hours later, J'zargo and Odahviing returned. "J'zargo, go back to Winterhold," K'ira growled. "you're the new Arch-Mage. Odahviing, you will fly me and Brelyna to Skuldafn."

J'zargo looked down at Brelyna's body, and at K'ira, who appeared ready to transform into a werewolf and kill everything in a mile radius. "okay," he said. "J'zargo trusts his brother."

Odahviing was silent, watching as Brelyna's body began to glow white. K'ira turned, and watched as Nocturnal appeared in a ghostly form. "it is beyond my power to take you to Skuldafn, but I will carry my Chosen there. Mehrunes Dagon has decided to begin a war between the Daedric Princes, and the gods are set to cast their lot. I want to win the favour of Akatosh and Talos through you." Brelyna's body disappeared, as Nocturnal continued, "Mehrunes Dagon wants to challenge you to battle at Skuldafn, and he sent me to say so, but he can ill afford Brelyna's resurrection. She will be stronger when you bring her back."

"you mentioned Akatosh. I didn't know he had any interest in me," K'ira said through gritted teeth.

Nocturnal made no response, instead she merely followed Brelyna into nothingness. K'ira was immobile for a while, but eventually he stood, and looked at himself. The fine robes he had been wearing were burnt and tattered, but he wore his Nightingale Feathers, as well as two rings, the Ring of Hircine and his wedding band. His sword, Chillrend, was hanging on his left hip, and in a cruel twist of fate, Mehrunes' Razor was on his right. He took the Razor and its sheath and flung them into the charred dirt. He couldn't trust that weapon with his life.

J'zargo left, while K'ira received visits from Boethiah, Hircine, and lastly, Malacath, who began, "as the god of the spurned and cursed, I see one who could use my assistance, to attain revenge."

"cut the bootlicking, Malacath, it doesn't suit you," K'ira snarled. It was evening, and the moon dimly lit their meeting.

Malacath roared in fury, and in his quick temper, raised the mighty hammer Volendrung, which he had intended to give to K'ira.

K'ira swung Chillrend up to meet the threat, but its blade shattered under Malacath's blow. He sprang open the Nightingale Feathers and tackled the Daedric Prince, pinning his throat to the ground with his hidden blade. "impressive," Malacath said, and chuckled. "get off me." K'ira obeyed, still ready to strike. "I know Mehrunes Dagon. You're not going to take him on with a couple of butter knives, not in Skuldafn."

"what do you suggest?" K'ira asked, and retracted the Feathers.

"walk silently and carry a big stick," Malacath laughed, and tossed Volendrung at K'ira like it was nothing. K'ira caught it with one hand, just as impressive, and hung it on his back.

"if you can find Dagon, tell him I'm going to destroy him," K'ira said, and climbed onto Odahviing's back. "let's go."

Odahviing took off, and set out for Skuldafn.

X

Okay, readers, I should start by saying that Brelyna's death and the coming journey is going somewhere big, and I'm talking about the kind of big that makes Alduin look like a whiny little dragon-bitch that had been needing a Dragonborn foot up his ass for thousands of years. I don't usually talk like that, but I tell you guys, I'm psyched just to write about this stuff. Oh, and I'm not sure if you've heard, but the first Skyrim DLC, Dawnguard, is coming this summer.

Blue Wolf


	8. Ravaged

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 8: Ravaged

Odahviing had already flown halfway across Skyrim, it had been three days since Brelyna's death. "I cannot continue like this, Dovahkiin. Soon, we will have to…" a Thalmor sorcerer on the ground far below cast Lightning Storm on Odahviing, hitting his right wing and setting it aflame. Odahviing, already exhausted, passed out and fell from the sky. As he tumbled in freefall, K'ira was thrown from his saddle.

X

"_K'ira." He knew it couldn't be real, it had to be a dream, but there was Brelyna, unharmed. "Mehrunes Dagon wants to fight you, because if he kills you, he can enter Skyrim the way he did in the Oblivion Crisis. Don't let him kill you."_

"_I won't. But I'm not leaving you in a cell in Oblivion for eternity."_

"_I can't stay much longer, just remember, Akatosh told me to tell you, 'being Dragonborn gives you more than just the Dragon Voice.' he's the reason I'm able to communicate with you right now."_

"_I'll remember. I'm coming, Brelyna."_

_Then the dream went dark as Mehrunes Dagon came for Brelyna, looming over them both at a colossal scale. Brelyna's apparition turned to blue smoke, and Dagon raised his foot to step on K'ira._

_At the last moment, a blinding white light filled the world, forcing the giant Daedric Prince backward and imbuing K'ira with great power and courage. He knew then, that Dagon was not invincible, and that the Dragonborn could triumph once more._

X

K'ira woke, and looked around. Thalmor soldiers were closing in, and Odahviing was nowhere to be seen. He groaned as he got up, and began healing himself, which was no small task as he had just been shot out of the sky. He took Volendrung with both hands, and threw it at the first soldier to come within range. A dense fog was rolling into the field, clearly an Illusion spell. K'ira extended the hidden Nightingale Feathers from his wrists, and dodged a sword, sinking a Feather into its wielder's skull. With one hand now anchored in this soldier's head, he fended off and killed three other Thalmor before he could pull the blade free.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" he roared, incinerating a dozen Thalmor. The survivors scattered into the fog, and K'ira called after them, "what? No giant robots?" an arrow flew out of the fog, and stabbed into his chest. He snapped it off and Shouted, "LOK VAH KOOR!" this cleared the fog and exposed the archer, whom K'ira killed with a lightning bolt.

And then, just as he turned back to his path, he realized the other Thalmor were charging at him, and one struck him on the head with a staff.

After about an hour, he came to, in his cell. He was still wearing his Nightingale Feathers, but Volendrung and his rings were gone. He flicked open his right-hand Feather, and jammed it into the lock of his cell, destroying the lock's delicate interior. He merely gave the door a shove, and the lock fell apart, releasing the door. Satisfied, K'ira retracted his blade, and prepared for his escape. With his blades, he could continue, but without the Ring of Hircine, his ability to become a werewolf would be severely reduced. Even worse, his wedding ring was gone. He weighed the decision, and eventually decided he could handle whatever guards were stationed here, and set out to retrieve his equipment.

He headed down the stairs, and noted from the view in the window that he was in a tower. One guard in a suit of Elven armour was guarding his path, but was looking outward, likely expecting some sort of rescue attempt, or perhaps an attack from the Empire. This was his undoing, which he realized as K'ira clapped a hand over his victim's mouth, and stabbed into the elf's lower back, then quickly pulled the blade free and stepped around in front of the Thalmor soldier, finishing him off with a strike to the heart which slid cleanly between the ribs.

K'ira sealed the Feather away, and turned to face the startling sight of a werewolf charging at him at full speed. The werewolf picked him up and threw him out the stained-glass window, then jumped after him.

One after the other, they plunged three stories down to the cold ground. It was snowing heavily, but the werewolf shrugged off the cold, clad in thick black fur. K'ira transformed into his own inner beast, and bolted into battle with his new adversary. They clawed at each other, and dodged attempts to tackle one another. To lose one's footing would be to die. The two circled each other, snarling, until another Thalmor warrior made a feeble attempt to throw Volendrung as K'ira had. The fool had aimed at the wrong werewolf, but it didn't matter, because K'ira lunged into the hammer's path and caught it with both hands. With his back turned, he was vulnerable to the other werewolf's next attack, or so it seemed. K'ira was cunning as wolf and man, so he allowed the werewolf to charge at him, then threw him aside at the last moment, allowing Volendrung to fall into a snowdrift. The werewolf landed in the snow, hard, and was about to get up, but it was already too late. K'ira bit into the other werewolf's throat and let his blood melt the snow.

Feebly, K'ira managed to take the rings from the werewolf, and hung Volendrung on his back, then continued eastward on all fours.

X

Panting, K'ira came to a stop, and hid from human eyes amid a grove of trees. He had been a werewolf for close to a week. He was hungry, tired, and losing his grip on his wolf form. If he went much longer without changing back, he would pass out and be forced back into a Dunmer form.

He growled, as he spotted an elk trotting past him, a few hundred feet away. He was on it before it knew what had happened, and began to eat.

K'ira had long since lost any feeling of revulsion he once had when tearing fresh, raw meat from a kill. As he finished eating, he transformed back into a Dark Elf, and scrambled up an oak tree to sleep in. He was exhausted.

After a few hours, he was woken by the growling voices of two powerful Dremora, but remained silent as he listened. They were talking in their native tongue, but he picked up the names Mehrunes Dagon and Brelyna Maryon amid the words. Satisfied, he flicked open both Nightingale Feathers, and leapt out of the tree. He struck into their skulls with the blades, and they fell as he landed between them. With yet another threat dealt with, he limbed the tree again, but this time, made himself invisible, just in case.

X

Readers, I just have to tell you this. In just two weeks this series became by far the most popular of the four I have uploaded. Hundreds of people have read this story so far, and I only hope that you guys stick around. I have to admit, I really thought this story would just be random, unconnected chapters featuring the four protagonists beating the crap out of everything from dragons to Daedra, but somewhere along the line, it transformed, and now it's so much more. I've always felt attached to my stories, the characters, the battles, and it feels as though the outcome of the story really matters here, in real life. All these things are why I'm pouring my heart out into this series, and although the conclusion is near for the Dragon Knights of Winterhold, it's time I officially announced that K'ira, Brelyna, J'zargo, and Odahviing won't be going away for months to come. I am planning a sequel series, and it will be huge. I mean that in two different ways, but I think I'll explain later.


	9. Loyalty

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 9: Loyalty

K'ira faded in and out of consciousness, bordering on delirium. He was nearly dead from exhaustion, and had been running as a werewolf for over two weeks, with minimal sleep and food. But finally, he was at the foot of the eastern mountains around Skuldafn.

He groaned and got up off the cold grass. His tattered robes had come nowhere close to keeping him warm, he was shivering cold. He spotted a campfire to the southwest, and headed toward it, stumbling all the way. It felt like eternity before he arrived, but he did arrive, and collapsed in front of the camping hunter's tent.

X

"hey, elf, you feeling better?"

"ah… huh?" he opened his eyes, and found himself in a tent. A young Nord hunter was peering in on him, awaiting a response. "yeah, way better."

"you've been out for three days. Lucky for you, those have been three very productive days," the Nord said, and beckoned for him to come outside. "fresh meat to spare, means I can help a little more."

"thanks," K'ira grunted, and crawled out of the tent. He felt much stronger, almost ready for the next challenge in his way. "I'm K'ira."

"Markor." Markor froze. "wait. K'ira, as in the Dragonborn? No, you can't be, you're an elf. He's supposed to be Khajit."

"it's a long story…"

"by the gods, you are! Well, let's hear this long story over some venison, then."

K'ira tore into the food, and told the story of how he changed species, of Brelyna, the wedding, and Mehrunes Dagon, finally concluding with how he had to finish his journey to Skuldafn. Markor nodded occasionally, mesmerized, then finally, he said, "it's an honour, really. But I have to warn you, there's Hagravens lurking up there. Dozens of them, doing some sort of foul ritual."

"thank you, for everything." K'ira stood, and added, "I'll pay you back for this."

"yeah, okay…" Markor trailed off, and K'ira left, headed for the cliffs once more.

He climbed the sheer rock for hours, until he reached a ledge which he chose as a campsite for the night. As the sun set, he noticed a light far below him, a torch. Paying closer attention, he realized it was Markor, climbing after him. He was as much a hero as K'ira, to attempt to help a complete stranger so valiantly.

K'ira sighed, and cast a Telekinesis spell on Markor, painstakingly hauling him upward to the ledge. Markor would have thanked K'ira, but they both passed out mere seconds later.

X

At sunrise, K'ira woke, rejuvenated. Markor was already digging through a pack of food he had brought, and explained, "my father once climbed to Skuldafn. The Draugr chased him off, but he only escaped narrowly, because the climb took him three days, and he was exhausted. He nearly died of hunger by the time he got back. He hadn't packed well."

"and I didn't bring anything." K'ira replied.

"aye. Even if you survived, Dagon would finish you. You need your strength." Markor tossed him a chunk of smoked beef.

"and now what? Do you plan to keep coming with me?"

"I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but I live a fairly boring life. The hunt has become far too easy for me, I need some adventure."

"so your plan is to fight in round two of the Oblivion Crisis?"

"I guess so. Wait, you mean he's planning to try that again?"

"if he kills me, he'll be able to enter Mundus again, and this time, Akatosh won't have a champion, because Mehrunes Dagon will have already killed me."

"it'll be pandemonium. Bloody panic," Markor said, and shuddered. "maybe we shouldn't be going, then."

"he'd get out anyway," K'ira muttered. "only then, I'd be alone. I have to go save Brelyna, before Dagon sets foot in Tamriel, so she can help me kill him." K'ira finished his meal, and stood. "we'd better keep moving."

"yeah." Markor hurriedly tied up the pack, and they continued to climb. After about an hour, they stopped, a snowstorm was coming in from the west. "a ledge and a tent won't protect us from that, we need a cave," K'ira called, the wind was already howling.

"aye! I see one over there," Markor answered, and pointed upward and to the left. They climbed to it and headed into the rock, deep enough that the blizzard wouldn't reach them. They reached safety with only a few minutes to spare. "if that storm doesn't die down soon, we'll have to head out anyway, won't we?" K'ira merely grunted in response. "I guess it makes sense, I'd rather brave a snowstorm than a coven of Hagravens…" then, Markor fell silent, but K'ira heard the impact of a spell, and turned to see Markor fall over, paralyzed. He Shouted, "FUS RO DAH!" throwing the Hagravens further into the cave, but more came. Despite repetitive Ice Form and Fire Breath Shouts, the Hagravens reached him, through determination, invisibility, and wards. All it took was a strike to the head, and for the second time, under similar circumstances, K'ira woke in a cell.

This time, the cage was made of bone, his hands were tied, and his mouth was wrapped in cloth. He couldn't Shout, couldn't swing his blades, nothing. He sat in the middle of his cell, seething, until he realized he still had the power to transform into a werewolf. He attempted to do so, and successfully tore open his bindings. He shattered the cage, but was struck in the chest with a rigged battering ram which knocked him out once again.

X

After a long time, he woke in a new, similar cell, but the ram was in plain view. He knew that another transformation would get him nowhere. He noticed a shallow wound on his chest which was already healing, it seemed that the ram was intended to break the skin and poison the victim with some concoction which rendered him unconscious. He was about to formulate another escape plan, but three Hagravens entered his chamber and disarmed the traps, including a multitude of them that K'ira hadn't seen. They then dragged K'ira out of the cell. He began to struggle against them, but they simply knocked him out again.

When he came to, a few minutes later, he was outside, chained in a courtyard of stone, seemingly an extension of the Nordic Skuldafn ruins. A Hagraven wielding a tribal-looking staff appeared over a balcony, and set the staff on a pedestal, aiming it at K'ira and Markor. "today, the Hagravens rise out of this pathetic ruin, with the power of dragons at our wingtips!" K'ira began to understand the reason they hadn't killed him, the Hagravens intended to use this staff to tear the power of the Voice from his body. The staff was not tailor-made for this purpose, in fact, it seemed as though the staff was merely meant to kill him, quite thoroughly. Judging by the fact it wouldn't even be fired in one's hand, he assumed it was incredibly dangerous, but on the other hand, it was wooden. Flammable. If he could just use his Fire Breath Shout…

"Dragonborn! Today you will die, and when Mehrunes Dagon makes his appearance once more, it is not you he will face!" the Hagraven held up a Soul Gem, to the approval and cheering of the Hagraven coven. She set the Soul Gem into the head of the staff, and aimed it like a turret at his head. A thin beam of light emanated from it, igniting the cloth over his mouth. "now, let free your Voice, and I will steal it away!"

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" the wall of flame terrified many of the Hagravens, but the staff and its wielder were unharmed. "FUS RO DAH! Damn you… OD AH…"

He was interrupted then, by another roaring Thu'um, this one far deeper and louder, it echoed throughout the courtyard, accompanied by an earthquake. "STRUN BAH QO!"

Storm Call decimated the Hagravens, and Odahviing landed in the courtyard, letting free a torrent of flame, but he was not alone. J'zargo was there, on Odahviing's back, wielding a staff in each hand, unleashing Destruction magic. He slid down Odahviing's right wing, and melted a few links of chain, allowing K'ira to shrug the remains off. "take this and keep your head down!" J'zargo shouted over the wind and thunder, handing K'ira a sheathed Blades-style katana. K'ira took the weapon, and embraced his self-proclaimed brother. "yes, yes, J'zargo has saved your life, you are forever in debt to the great Arch-Mage, and all of that, but we have no time!"

K'ira stepped back and Shouted, "LOK VAH KOOR!" clearing away the raging storm, revealing silence. Odahviing had killed all but one of the Hagravens, the one still hiding behind the staff, whom he loomed over, growling. The Hagraven raised the staff, shakily aiming it, and prepared a shot. "WULD NAH KEST!" K'ira finished his Whirlwind Sprint by kicking off of the ground, soaring up to the balcony, and extending his Nightingale Feathers. He tackled the Hagraven while piercing her throat with his right-hand blade. He panted, throat and Thu'um both sore, and retracted his blades. "Drem Yol Lok, Odahviing, J'zargo."

J'zargo climbed the stairs normally, and clapped K'ira on the shoulder. "rest, my brother. We make for Skuldafn tomorrow morning."

K'ira nodded. He would need all the strength he could get.

X

NEXT WEEK: THE SERIES FINALE

Dagon vs. Dovahkiin

Destruction vs. Destiny

The Truth Revealed


	10. Skuldafn

The Dragon Knights of Winterhold

Chapter 10: Crisis

Odahviing landed in the same spot he had when K'ira and J'zargo had gone to face Alduin, but now their opponent was Mehrunes Dagon, and even the fate of the world came second in importance to two other things. Firstly, K'ira had come to retrieve his beloved, Brelyna Maryon, from the clutches of death, and second, of course, was vengeance. K'ira had pushed himself to the edge, and trekked across most of Skyrim on foot. He had battled the invading Thalmor, escaped a Hagraven coven, and nearly lost himself in the blood-fuelled bliss of lycanthropy, but at last, here he was, and though he was weathered and sore, he felt stronger than ever.

After being completely unprotected for weeks, he felt invincible in the safety of his Nightingale robes, custom made in the obscure forges of the Evergloam for him alone. Even better, no dragon-Draugr army stood in his way as he approached the portal to Sovngarde, and in fact, all the immortal realms of the afterlife.

Where before it had glowed purple, the portal beneath the whirlpool of rock fragments was now red and roiling with lightning. This was the threshold of Oblivion. Six Dremora Valkynaz warriors stood in his way, but they parted to let him pass, sword drawn. Mehrunes Dagon manifested in a frail spectre, taunting him. "how easy it was to draw you here," Mehrunes hissed. "do you really believe that your Thu'um will spare you a horrific fate? My legion awaits you in Oblivion, and they will aid me in destroying you. I will feast on your soul, draw power from the dragon blood, and at last, I will conquer Tamriel."

K'ira smirked under his hood, red eyes glinting in the darkness. "you're not the only one with a plan, Dagon. You've made too many enemies." on cue, six young Nightingales appeared in flashing purple light, swords at the ready, and struck down the Valkynaz warriors.

"so it's war, then!" Mehrunes disappeared, and a flood of Daedra soldiers replaced him. Odahviing and Paarthurnax descended upon the newborn battlefield, Shouting fiery hell into the enemy crowd. Malacath and Nocturnal then entered the fray, but K'ira had already been tuned out of the raging war, eyes fixed on the apparition before him, dancing serenely through the crowd, and he could swear, he could hear her humming a peaceful tune, even over the screams and clashing metal of battle. He followed Brelyna's spirit, without regard for any sort of a trap, and welcomed the sensation of traveling between worlds.

X

The great black castle loomed evilly over K'ira, and he knew that somewhere within, Brelyna's soul awaited, likely confined a cell or a Soul Gem. Was she aware of his arrival? Was Mehrunes Dagon aware? He didn't care. All he cared about was finding her. He ran at full speed toward the castle, and watched as its twenty-story-high gates of Ebony and bone parted to allow him entrance. Mehrunes Dagon was there, in his true form, almost as high as the gates. He had four arms, each wielding a massive sword, his eyes crackled with lightning, and flames danced over his fangs. "you will never reach her!" Dagon thundered, and swung downward with a colossal sword. K'ira had known, however, that he had no chance against Dagon in this state, because he had finally understood what Akatosh had explained through Brelyna.

"_I can't stay much longer, just remember, Akatosh told me to tell you, 'being Dragonborn gives you more than just the Dragon Voice.' he's the reason I'm able to communicate with you right now."_

"_I'll remember. I'm coming, Brelyna."_

It was a gamble, but he could already feel it beginning to work, as he dodged Mehrunes' weapon, sheathed his own, and unbuckled his sword belt. He had transformed before, he had become a wolf countless times, but this was different. The tearing pain of unleashing Hircine's wicked power was gone, replaced by the feeling of release, rightness. Here in Oblivion, his soul could take its true form, unhindered by the restricting body of a Joor, Mortal. He roared with his Thu'um, but without words, and took the form of a true Dovah.

His scales were midnight-blue and shimmering, but the skin of his wings was iridescent gold. His eyes glowed orange, and his claws were pitch-black, polished Ebony. He roared his first real Shout, "QO STRUN KEST!" Lightning, Storm, Tempest. It was the final of the three Breath Shouts, and he was the first to ever use it. A stream of furious lightning erupted from his jaws, knocking Mehrunes Dagon back just a step. The two giants collided, but K'ira still had a size disadvantage. Dagon threw him backward and into the air, but he held himself aloft with newly sprouted wings. "FUS RO DAH!" he roared, and dive-bombed his foe in the wake of the Shout. These two forces combined allowed K'ira to tackle Dagon, and scream into his face, "YOL TOOR SHUL!" roasting him. Dagon screamed back, but not a Shout, and in agony and fury, threw K'ira aside, who crashed into the walls of the castle. Great chunks of the black stone wall began to tumble downward, but K'ira had already charged at Dagon again, and sent him flying with a tackle and a cry of "WULD NAH KEST!" for extra speed and force. He transformed back into a mortal, disappearing as he crashed through a window of Mehrunes' castle. "Brelyna!"

"K'ira!" he heard her call faintly. She was far down the corridor, which was human-sized. It seemed this part of the castle was meant to house Dremora, not Dagon. He came around a corner, and found her, in a cell of spiked Ebony, which glowed a faint purple. "it's enchanted, I can't get out!"

K'ira sliced the bars to pieces with his Nightingale Feathers, and embraced her. "I can send you back right now."

"what about you?"

"I can escape too, but not yet. Are you ready?" she nodded, and he Shouted, "SLEN TIID VO!"

X

Brelyna gasped, and sprang to her feet, so fast that she lost her balance and fell again. She looked around, dazed, at the ruins of Skuldafn, where the Nightingales were in full force, along with common thieves, Orc warriors, and a few dragons. Nocturnal, wielding a dagger in each hand, appeared next to her. "how do you feel?"

"alive!"

"good answer! Take this!" Nocturnal handed her a Feather and bracer. She put it on and joined the battle, targeting any Dremora nearby.

"Brelyna! Welcome back, the celebration has already begun!" J'zargo laughed, and blocked a Daedric blade that nearly decapitated her. "where is K'ira?"

"in Oblivion, fighting Mehrunes Dagon. FUS RO DAH!" she screamed, knocking away a horde of Dremora. "STRUN BAH QO!"

A huge storm gathered over the battlefield, and Brelyna laughed over the thunder. "I can't believe that worked!"

"it shouldn't, you don't know that Shout," Odahviing said as he landed. In the air, he was little more than a lightning rod. "FO KRAH DIIN!" he bellowed, killing a dozen more Dremora.

Brelyna had no time to ponder how she had learned Storm Call, when even K'ira had wandered around Skyrim in search of Word Walls to grant him that knowledge. "FO KRAH DIIN!" she echoed, and a plume of frost billowed forth from her mouth as well. An idea struck her, as she took up a fallen Orc's twin swords. "eat steel, bitches! SU GRAH DUN!" to her delight, yet another new Shout had worked, and she put it to good use, spinning like a tornado of blades amid a crowd of Dremora.

X

"IISS SLEN NUS!" K'ira Shouted, blasting Mehrunes Dagon with a gust of subzero wind that would freeze most opponents solid, but he merely shrugged it off, and continued to tear his castle apart to get at K'ira.

K'ira, however, was ready, and with a cry of "WULD NAH KEST!" he released his true dragon form, grabbing Mehrunes Dagon with his hind claws, and carrying him upward for just a moment. He then dropped the colossal Daedric Prince, and spun in midair, calling, "QO STRUN KEST!"

Mehrunes Dagon fell to one knee under the force of the Shout. "enough of this!" he roared, and launched a fireball at K'ira. He tried to dodge it, but it followed him, and exploded on impact, knocking him from the sky. K'ira crashed into the courtyard on his back, and rolled to his feet and wing-claws, limping. The two circled each other, but Mehrunes Dagon spoke first. "I am immortal. You cannot defeat me, my return to Tamriel is inevitable."

K'ira grinned, difficult with a dragon's snout. "confirmation… That's all I needed. NAHL DAAL VUS!" Living, Return, Nirn. This was the Shout that had sent him from Sovngarde back to Skyrim.

X

Brelyna lowered her weapons, seeing that the Dremora were retreating, "we won! It's finally over!" she was about to sheathe the swords when she saw a great, dark blue dragon appear in front of the Skuldafn portal, in a flash of blue light. It shrank and transformed into K'ira, whose Nightingale armour regenerated onto his body. She ran to him, helped him up, and kissed him. Finally, they were together in the mortal world again.

"he's coming. I'm not sure how long we have, but it's not long." his words were met with dismal silence. "we can defeat him here!" he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him clearly. "there are hundreds of Skyrim's greatest warriors allied here, along with dragons, Daedric Princes, and I can feel it, even the Divines lend us their strength, to defeat this foe! Mehrunes Dagon, like any other Daedra, can be killed here, and banished back to Oblivion. He's desperate now, because he knows that if he fails, he won't have another chance for thousands of years, maybe for eternity. Think of the songs they will sing of this day, when we vanquish the greatest enemy of all mortals, of freedom, and of Tamriel! Think of that, as we stand in battle, against just one Daedra, as we send him back down to his hellhole! For honour! For glory, for Tamriel!" Zin, Moro, Taazokaan. Already, the Dragon Language had become integral to him. Where before, he could absorb these words to Shout, now he was becoming fluent in Draconic, and it seemed Brelyna was experiencing something similar. Brelyna had donned her equipment, which J'zargo and Odahviing had brought. She was smiling, despite the impending cataclysm. "gods, I've missed the real fighting," she said, and let out a quiet laugh. Night had fallen, and now most of the dim light in Skuldafn emanated from the humming red portal. "he'll be here any minute now, I can feel it…" she turned to face him, and added, "we've got a bit more time," before kissing him again.

This moment of peace was destroyed when Mehrunes Dagon's giant hand burst through the portal, and the rest of him followed soon after. Odahviing Shouted fire, while Paarthurnax Shouted frost, and lastly, K'ira transformed into a dragon, unleashing electricity to complete the trinity. When Brelyna added her Thu'um, Mehrunes Dagon shuddered against the force of their Shouts, but it was not enough. Nocturnal and Malacath took on giant forms to further push him back, but the Lord of Destruction was too powerful. Summoning all his power, Dagon banished both his fellow Princes back to Oblivion, while sending out a shockwave that briefly disrupted the four Voices. He laughed thunderously, and reached into the portal beneath his feet, pulling out a great halberd, which he swung at the great crowd of warriors allied to stop him. On impact, the weapon teleported the entire army away, save for the four Dovah. Even J'zargo was sent from the battlefield. The halberd dissolved into smoke, and the portal closed, as Mehrunes Dagon drew the four swords at his waist. "it is time!"

"WULD NAH KEST!" K'ira thundered, using Whirlwind Sprint once more to catapult himself into the air and at Dagon. Destruction magic from his human side set him alight with blue fire, a powerful Flame Cloak. He crashed into Dagon and bit into his throat, roaring.

Mehrunes threw him off, and went after Paarthurnax, who roared, "FO KRAH DIIN!" sending forth a storm of frost magic, while Brelyna hacked at him with twin swords far below. Mehrunes threw a great lightning bolt at Paarthurnax, shooting him into the distance, then raised his foot to crush Brelyna.

"FUS RO DAH!" she and K'ira both roared, and their Shouts met under Dagon, combining into a single upward force, launching even a bulk as massive as Mehrunes Dagon sky-high. K'ira followed with another Whirlwind Sprint, then Shouted, "STRUN BAH QO!" while wrestling with Dagon in midair. Storm Call gathered its power once more, now all K'ira needed to do was draw in its lightning. Electricity in such a situation will usually draw in more electricity, so K'ira ducked Mehrunes Dagon's fist as he roared one last Shout, "QO STRUN KEST!"

When a Daedra's mortal form dies in Tamriel, its soul lives on, but is banished back to Oblivion, often weakened. When a Daedric Prince such as Dagon is killed, not banished as Nocturnal and Malacath were, the destruction of its mortal form is total and cataclysmic. The explosion triggered by Dagon's death was a huge ball of orange fire, and the shockwave hit Skuldafn below with enough force to level many of the ancient Nordic buildings.

K'ira was sent plummeting to earth like a rocket, and he hit the ancient stone with a resounding thunderclap, and a wall of dust and dirt cast up from around the newborn crater.

X

"_you have done my bidding well, Champion," a voice called to K'ira in the darkness of sleep. "it is time I revealed the truth to you."_

_K'ira, in humanoid form, felt his feet hit stone as a great hallway built of around him, lit by sunlight filtering through shimmering windows of stained glass. In front of each window stood a man of a different race of Tamriel. He recognized his Khajit form and Dunmer form, but if they were both there, what was he now?_

_At the end of the hall was a great golden dragon, and without asking, K'ira knew who he was. Akatosh, father of all Dov, and by extension the Dovahkiin._

"_am I dead?"_

_Akatosh flicked his tongue like a lizard, then said soothingly, "no. you are alive."_

"_how was a able to transform into a dragon? Can all Dovahkiin do it?"_

"_you gained that power because I personally granted it to you. The potential to transcend from Dovahkiin to Dovah existed within all of your predecessors, and now your companion, Brelyna Maryon, but I had to open the path. Only Talos Stormcrown has done it before, and even then, only once. You should not have been capable to perform the task so easily, nor so frequently, but I was forced to channel my power through you, to help you vanquish Mehrunes Dagon."_

"_Brelyna is Dragonborn, then."_

"_yes. Your fate and hers are intertwined, entangled, joined. However, she is the Chosen of the Daedra, and you are Chosen by the Divines, so I cannot grant her the power of the Dov, not yet, at least."_

"_Brelyna said you gave her the power to seek me out from beyond death…"_

"_ah… for that, I am truly sorry, for I deceived you, child. I showed you only what you needed to see, in order to keep you going, and to convey my message. Brelyna could not reach you from Oblivion."_

_K'ira considered this, then nodded, and said, "it worked out in the end. What happens when I go back?"_

"_when you awake, you will find yourself healed, but weakened. You overstrained yourself and me during the clash with Dagon. In order to transform, you will need to absorb the energy I have given to all living things. It permeates the air, but in battle, you will wield my blessed sword, Dragonbreak, to take into yourself the power that I bestow upon the mortal races. In their blood flows dormant power, but when Dragonbreak delivers a blow, it acts as a conduit and fuels you, the only being that can use this power. You are my champion, my son, and I send you forth now, in Tamriel's time of need, to save the world once more. War is coming, and no race on any plane will go untouched. All the worlds will choose sides. You have two months to recover and prepare."_

_K'ira nodded, and Akatosh's realm faded to darkness again. _

X

K'ira's eyes opened, and he sprang up out of bed, hitting his head on the roof of the tent which sheltered him. He left the sheathed sword next to his bed, and stepped out into the rubble of Skuldafn. Odahviing was the first creature he noticed, severely injured but healing, and J'zargo, tending to him. Then, at last, he found Brelyna, looking over the mountainside. He ran to her and kissed her, arms wrapped around her waist while hers wrapped around his shoulders. "the view's nice. We could have our honeymoon here," she said, and kissed him again.

"yeah, the view is _really_ nice," he said.

"oh!" Brelyna laughed, and blushed slightly. "wait, what about Akatosh? Did he talk to you too?"

"yeah," K'ira said, and pulled away from Brelyna a few inches. "he told me we'd have to go out there and fight again."

"same here. But now we're stronger. I'm Dragonborn now."

"he mentioned that, but he said we have two months before we have to go out there."

"and J'zargo has to get back to Winterhold soon… Odahviing should be ready to fly out in a week… that leaves us alone for about seven weeks, in a place only dragons can reach…" she grinned, and pulled closer to him.

"so I have you all to myself."

"and I have you."

"this is going to be great…"

Thus ends the Dragon Knights of Winterhold.

Author's Note: Paarthurnax is alive, and currently licking his wounds atop his Strunmah, the Throat of the World. There WILL be a sequel, there is no two ways about it. It'll debut June 30th, my birthday. If you thought this chapter was good, you'll think the sequel is awesome. I can't reveal too many details, but I can tell you this: K'ira, Brelyna, J'zargo, and Odahviing are going through Tamriel to lay siege to Summerset Isle. I'm not entirely sure which route they'll take, but they'll probably visit Elsweyr and Valenwood along the way.

For those of you who stuck with K'ira and the gang through all of this, thank you. I hope you were satisfied with the ending, although to be fair, it's not the end, I just need a break. Goodbye for now…

Hey, wait. One more thing, I'm going to write a prequel series too, called Eye of Magnus, and it'll be about K'ira and J'zargo, and the founding of the Dragon Knights. I'll upload it all at once, when I finish it.

Blue Wolf


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